The Last Baby

I woke up again this morning missing the child that will not be. Our third child that I never really thought we would have, but somehow now want so desperately. This phantom baby syndrome came with the birth of my daughter, now almost 5 months old. In her early months I would literally cry while holding her and nursing, immersed in the sadness that this would be my last. My last baby to nurse, to have fall asleep on my chest, to see that first smile... they are small for such a short time! I am still sad about it, but it is a dull ache rather than a sharp pain.

I keep trying to release this feeling, and trust in the universe. If we are really meant to have more children, it will happen. We will be drawn to adoption (and we will suddenly have more money so we can afford more children!). Someone we know will have an unwanted pregnancy and ask us to take the baby. I am guessing immaculate conception is too much to ask for. Generally I love that we don't have to worry about birth control, but I am suddenly jealous of people who accidentally get pregnant. Without a vial and syringe, I can't make it happen. So I just have to trust, let go, and enjoy the baby I have. It is so bittersweet. My baby is so precious. But she makes me want more.